UNDER THE MICROSCOPE

The poet was an astute observer;
“life under the microscope” he called it.
But he was burdened by his digression from morality,
the totality of his mindful meandering
stood to undermine his status.
Thoughts he held to renounce his position
began to become overbearing
leaving him despondent due to its gravity.
A brooding depravity would preclude
all decorum. It had rained down
to usurp all logic and decency.
Denial was the thread upon which
his partisan mind had been hung.
And there it swung, twisting in the wind.